


Happy Hours

by TheGreatCatsby



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: FrostIron - Freeform, M/M, frostiron fest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 07:16:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1078116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatCatsby/pseuds/TheGreatCatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Frostiron Fest #32, Prompt 1. Future AU. Tony is now an old man. Loki comes to visit him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Hours

**Author's Note:**

> This went from angst to tragedy. Also Happy Holidays to the person whose gift this is! I don't know who it is at the moment, but whoever you are, awesome prompt! I really hope you enjoy it.

Tony Stark is old.

Tony Stark is 77 and his hair is gray, and thankfully it hasn’t fallen out. His skin is wrinkled and his blood pressure too high. He walks with a bit of a limp, but he can still stand tall. Well, somewhat tall. His friends have always been taller.

His liver is shot, his blood pressure too high, his heart too sluggish. He may have been Iron Man, but Iron Man was still mortal.

He spends his days at the new seaside mansion in California with occasional visits from friends. Bruce still likes to do science, and the Hulk has kept him relatively healthy compared to other men his age. Tony’s mind is constantly bored these days, so they often try new experiments, even if it’s only to entertain themselves.

But mostly, he is alone.

And as more and more people he knows pass away, or disappear from his life—Rhodey, Pepper—he finds that he is waiting his turn.

That is all he is waiting for.

**

It is a quiet Saturday at the mansion, with Tony making adjustments to Jarvis’ programming. This is a constant; Jarvis will be the legacy Tony is most proud of, and so he keeps tweaking.

He is in the middle of tweaking Jarvis when a soft voice says, “May I interrupt?”

Tony’s heart rate speeds up and he feels slightly ill. He hasn’t heard that voice in years.

“I’m kind of busy,” he says. 

“Then perhaps I can help,” the voice tells him, closer. 

Tony turns around. Loki stands there, and the bastard hasn’t aged since the last time Tony saw him, years ago. Before age became his defining feature. 

Loki doesn’t look the same as he did when Tony saw him last. It isn’t age that has changed him. He looks sharper, thinner, tired. Haunted, a bit. Like he’s fought a war much different from the one he tried to start, a war he didn’t want to fight at all. His hair is a bit longer, resting on his shoulders. There is a scar on his cheek, a darker slash against pale skin. 

“You can’t help,” Tony tells him. 

This doesn’t deter Loki. He continues to look at Tony, taking him in. His eyes flicker over Tony’s face, over his body, to the cane beside his chair. Something passes over his face, but it’s gone before Tony can figure out what it is. 

“You left,” Tony says. 

Loki’s eyes move back to Tony’s face. His hands clasp each other tightly. “How long?” he asks. 

“Eighteen years,” Tony says. 

“Eighteen years,” Loki repeats. “I did not realize-”

“Where did you go?” Tony asks. “You left—you said you had ‘pressing matters’ in Asgard and then you left.” 

“I did,” Loki says. 

“You didn’t even like Asgard,” Tony snaps. “Why were they more important than me?” 

“I didn’t spent eighteen years in Asgard,” Loki says. “I lost track of time.” 

“Well, it’s easy for you,” Tony mutters. “Look at you. You haven’t changed a bit. We’re just flies to you, killed off easily. We don’t ma—” 

Loki rushes forward and grips Tony by the shoulders, backing him into the desk. “You know what you could do,” he growls. There is another scar on his throat, a dark gash that looks like it must have been horribly painful. 

Tony can’t look at Loki’s burning eyes, so he looks at the scar. Which is hardly better. “You know I can’t do that,” he says. 

Loki doesn’t let go of him, but his grip is less tight. He takes a sharp breath. “Then why do you want me here, Stark? Why did you want me to stay? To watch you die?”

It sounds selfish when he puts it like that. Tony says, “I would’ve liked some closure.” 

“I didn’t plan to be gone for so long,” Loki says. He reaches a hand up to brush Tony’s cheek. “How long do you have?” 

“I don’t know,” Tony says. “A few years at most.” Now he looks at Loki, and can see the pain in his eyes, along with anger. 

“I can fix this,” Loki tells him. It sounds like a plea. “I can help you. I can make you immortal.” 

“I don’t want to watch everything else die,” Tony says. “I can’t.” 

Loki stares at him for a moment, looking as if he wants to say something, but he closes his mouth tight and vanishes into thin air. 

Tony eases himself back into his chair. The room is silent. He looks at his tools, suddenly unimportant. And he thinks that this is the last time he’ll see Loki. 

“Fuck,” he says. There are not tears in his eyes. He can deal with this. This is his choice, and if Loki can’t accept it, fine. 

But his hands shake as he resumes his work. 

**  
Two days pass with no sign of Loki. Not that Tony is waiting, or even hoping that Loki will come back. He tells himself that he’s seen the last of Loki and that he doesn’t have to hope anymore. Not like last time. 

Tony is in bed, lying on his back and unable to sleep, when he feels the weight of the mattress shift next to him. He thinks it might be a dream. He dares not look over. 

A cool hand touches him arm and Loki’s voice whispers in his ear, “I’m sorry.” 

Tony looks over to see Loki lying on the bed, facing him, eyes overly bright in the darkness. He is not in his leathers, but instead is dressed in forest green. His hair is tied back, a new look, Tony realizes, with only a few strands hanging around his face. 

It is so unlike him to be sorry.

“What happened?” Tony asks him. 

“A war,” Loki says, “of sorts. I fought an enemy and he nearly won.”

“But he didn’t,” Tony says. “And it took you that long?” 

Loki doesn’t look at him. “No,” he says. 

“Then what did?” 

“You have lost people before,” Loki says. “People you cared about. It hurts, does it not?” 

Tony nods. 

“I could not watch you age,” Loki says. “I can’t watch you slowly die.” 

“So I have to go it alone?” Tony asks. 

“And I don’t?” Loki snaps, turning to face him, angry now. “I will out live all of you. I will be alone-”

“You’ll have Thor,” Tony says, “if you’d stop fighting with him for five seconds-”

“Do not speak of Thor-”

“Why am I the only one who matters?” Tony asks. “You can’t be mad at me for dying. You have family. If you’d just talk to them-”

“You refused!” Loki snarls. 

Tony stares at him. And he remembers. Right before Loki left, he’d offered Tony immortality. And Tony hadn’t taken it. Had said he wouldn’t take it, for exactly the reasons that Loki is struggling now. 

“I’m not sorry,” he says. 

“No, you’re not,” Loki says, “because you see me and you don’t want to be like this. Immortality fosters the greatest monsters.” 

“You still die,” Tony says. 

Loki glances away. 

“I know,” Tony says. “It’s a sucky consolation. I should work on that.” He places a hand on Loki’s shoulder. 

Loki, surprisingly, doesn’t pull away. Tony remembers in the beginning of their relationship, when Loki still attacked cities and Tony still hated him half the time, that Loki would more often than not reject touch of any kind like it was a weapon being wielded against him. Now he leans into it, and cups Tony’s cheek with a cool hand. He looks into Tony’s eyes. 

“Your skin,” he says. 

“It’s old,” Tony says. “But my soul is still young.” 

“Comparatively,” Loki murmurs. He looks into Tony’s eyes. “You have seen so much for a mortal, yet so little.” 

“Hey,” Tony says, softly. It has no strength behind it. Loki’s eyes are still very green, and seemingly bottomless. Tony could spend his lifetime staring into them, trying to see everything that Loki’s seen, to know everything about him, and it still would not be nearly enough. 

“I am a selfish creature,” Loki says. 

“So am I.” Tony reaches up to touch the smooth skin of Loki’s cheek. To run his fingers along the new scar there. “How-”

“No,” Loki says, firmly. There is something cold in his eyes that that Tony might have ignored, were it not combined with a flash of fear. And what could make Loki so afraid?

“Okay,” Tony says. “How about this? I’m prepared to forgive you, no questions asked, if you spend the night with me.”

“Forgiveness doesn’t come so easily,” Loki says. “You’re still angry.” 

“A bit,” Tony admits. “But it’s a start.” 

“I can’t-”

“Come on.” Tony leans forward and brushes Loki’s lips with his own. His lips must be dry, chapped, but Loki deepens the kiss anyway, kissing Tony like he did years ago, when Tony was younger. 

And then Loki is on top of him, kissing him hard, kissing him as if his life depends on it. Tony feels years younger, like when he and Loki first started this, when everything was raw and aggressive and as much a release for emotion as a need to be accepted. 

Then Tony is gasping for air and Loki is watching him with a blank expression. 

“That was—wow,” Tony manages. “You still got it. Makes me wish I could keep up.” 

Something like sadness passes over Loki’s face. “You should sleep, Stark,” he says. 

“Stark?” Tony asks, and a wave of tiredness washes over him and he thinks that yes, he should sleep now. 

“Tony,” Loki murmurs, and he presses a soft kiss to Tony’s lips. 

It feels like goodnight. 

Tony allows himself to slip away. 

**

Loki watches Tony breathe slowly, in-and-out, a small smile playing over his lips. He places a hand over Tony’s heart, can feel it beating. It beats less vigorously than it did before. 

Loki closes his eyes and allows his magic to flow through him, to flow into Tony’s chest, cold and strong and unyielding. 

He feels Tony’s heartbeat slow to a flutter and then, after a few moments, to a stop. 

Followed by silence. 

Loki takes his hand away. It still tingles with the phantom feeling of life against his palm, and he feels dizzy and ill. From above, Stark’s computer starts to talk, saying something about calling for assistance, getting Dr. Banner, trying to wake Tony up. 

Loki holds his hand to his chest and tries not to be sick. 

They will come to take the body away, soon. 

He tells himself that this is something he can control, that now he doesn’t have to watch Stark slip away and not know when or why, and possibly not be there at all to say his goodbyes. 

He shakes and grips his hand harder, trying to get rid of the memory of feeling Stark’s life leave him. 

The sound of footsteps running down the hallway outside catches his attention, and he stands up and looks at Tony lying in the bed, wrinkled face smoothed, making him look years younger. He swallows. 

He says, “I always was a selfish creature.” 

He disappears just as the door bursts open.


End file.
